Perfect Timing
by 3431jess
Summary: Stumbling upon an awkward entanglement with your boss and best friend may not be a common thing except if your surname is 'Smoak'.
1. Chapter 1

It's all began with a recipe book—a gift from Diggle and Lyla when they heard the Queens sibling were moving out of their mansion.

Perhaps the book was a gesture of sympathy, a thoughtful motion more than anything else, because truthfully, after what happened to Moira Queen and Isabel Rochev—there was no reason to celebrate. Not for Oliver and Thea.

Anyway… The recipe book was adorned with a picture of a Michelin starred British Chef, Gordon Ramsay, smiling resplendently at the camera while chopping a stack of peppers. The pages were decorated with mouth-watering photographs of the expected end-result, full of unsuspecting culinary tricks. The book was also practical, considering everyone had to eat at least twice a day (perhaps more if you are carbs eating machine like Oliver, but you get the point).

* * *

Felicity had never felt so satisfied eating a salad in her life.

It's probably down to the chef—a statuesque young man with nice, toned arms, was staring back at her as she took an experimental bite and chew the content of her plate thoughtfully.

"How is it?" Oliver asked, half concerned, half amused when Felicity told Thea she would forgo eating fast food if every plate of salad were tasting this good.

This super fancy Nico…something salad that she couldn't pronounce—topped with smoked salmon, egg benedict, and lemon dressing—was totally like gastronomical wet dreams. And, judging by the contented hum coming from the other end of the table where the younger Queen was sitting, it's doing the same for her too.

"Ollie, this is amazing!" Thea shook her head in wonderment, causing a prideful smile to break on her brother's lips. "As a trustworthy salad connoisseur, I would like to endorse this salad into the menu of your first restaurant!"

"Not sure about that Speedy," he chuckled, pouring coffee and placing the mugs in front of them. "I think bow and arrow still my top chart expertise."

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to live on takeout when you and Thea move out," Felicity sighed, shaking her head when she remembered their living arrangement was something temporary.

Eating elaborate dish for every breakfast, lunch and dinner were almost too much for a daily indulgence; but after Oliver insisted this was the least he could do to repay her kindness of letting him and Thea stay in her apartment after the recent debacle with Mrs. Corporate Crazy Pants, Felicity couldn't bring herself to reject.

Besides, they were making a good use of Diggle and Lyla's gift—another part of her brain reasoned. It was truly a win-win situation for everyone.

Isabel Rochev had already been apprehended and undoubtedly would receive a rightful punishment for her crime, but now the Queens sibling was left to deal with the fatal damage she'd done. With the company was now flailing dangerously on edge of bankruptcy, the bank was forced to freeze all of the Queen's personal asset—including Verdant, the club that Thea previously owned.

Amidst the turmoil, Ray Palmer, a handsome billionaire with a brain to match, had offered to buy all the stock and injected much necessary fund to cover QC debt. The move may sound promising for a regular employee like Felicity. However, Mr. Palmer decision in getting involved in QC day to day business and installing himself as the CEO had rendered Oliver jobless.

"Anyone for brownies?" Oliver sauntered in front of her and parked the freshly baked goodies that practically shouted 'Eat Me' all over it on the counter.

"Again? You just made this yesterday… and the day before…"

"Not exactly. The one yesterday had strawberry slices, and this time I've substituted it with marshmallow and chocolate chip sprinkle."

Thea made a comment about calories intake to which Felicity commented it's human nature to favor things that either illegal, immoral or fattening.

Regardless of her remark, she took one slice and placed it whole in her mouth, letting the intense flavor of the chocolate and the sweetness of marshmallow cuddled her taste buds. Oliver's smile broadened a fraction wider when she licked her finger and breathed a happy sigh.

"Sweet things are the Smoak's women weaknesses," Felicity said. "However, on my 7th birthday party, my mom forgot to fill the pinata with candies. I didn't talk to her for a week."

"My dad told me the ice cream truck played music when all the ice cream was gone." Oliver shared his tale. "And one time he even told us to look around the house for a bar of chocolate he already ate!" added Thea, laughing at the memory.

"Wow, I didn't know there was a fierce sugar battle in your household," Felicity remarked, putting another slice into her mouth.

"Chocolate is good for you," he elaborated. "It's beneficial for your heart, including lower blood pressure, lower "bad" LDL cholesterol and a lower risk of heart disease. One of the reasons chocolate is especially heart-healthy is its inflammation-fighting properties, which reduce cardiovascular risk."

Felicity found it hard to concentrate on the content Oliver's lecture because her brain had been completely enthralled by the knight in the shining armor that currently wearing an apron and holding a spatula. On the brighter side of the note, the unfortunate fate of QC had brought Oliver and Thea to her doorstep, which was refreshing to have one burgeoning fashion expert and a talented chef. So, here she was, one month later, mesmerized by the look of her insanely handsome cook while listening to him talk about nutrients and vitamins, the importance of fiber for digestion system, balance diet and…—

A familiar _Ping_! From Thea's phone broke her stupor.

Thea fished for the gadget from her handbag unlocked it unceremoniously and read the message.

Then, she gasped, eyes grew wide as a dinner plate and the big piece of brownies on her hand fell and went completely unnoticed. Seconds later, her face contorted into a deep frown before out of a sudden breaking into a delirious laugh.

"Thea?" Oliver peered closer and Felicity couldn't resist following suit.

Thea was still laughing so hard, and in her breathless state could only show a message from Diggle, with a link to a TMZ headline, titled as cliche as, "Perfect Timing".

 _Amidst bad forecast of recent Queen Consolidated quarterly performance following the CEO, Moira Queen's death and the legal feud over company's ownership that sunk the QC stock prices to the bottom low, finally it's time for a spark of good news._

 _Perhaps a congratulation is in order for the oldest heir of the Queen's scion and former playboy turned survivor of Gambit calamity, Oliver Queen._

 _His rumored secret girlfriend and EA, Felicity Smoak, was seen cradling her modest baby bump while caught on camera shopping for infant clothing in downtown Starling City's most swanky and prominent shopping arcade with a proud aunt-to-be, Thea Queen._

 _Ms. Smoak, 25, a magna-cum-laude MIT graduate, had been working for QC for a good couple years, had an excellent career track record in climbing the corporate ladder._

 _The Queen's PR had refused to comment, but according to a few source, the usually private couple had moved in together about a month ago._

 _Talking about perfect timing, the arrival of the latest addition to the Queen family may be the savior of QC future as the stock price had tripled exponentially in a matter of hours since the news was released._

Felicity snatched the phone from Thea's hand to re-read the article and made sure she wasn't hallucinating….and then her face going ashen.

" _Oh look at that cute pink onesies, and it comes with a matching mousey hat! How adorable!"_

" _It even has a tail!"_

 _Felicity and Thea were browsing through the neat array of baby fashion in one of the independent boutique store that Thea said her mom was frequented. Their initial plan for spending half an hour looking for the perfect white dress for baby Sara's Christening had extended into one and a half hour. And by the look of it, it was only going to drag more. All because the store owner, Ms. Moloney, an old lady that hold exact semblance to Queen Elizabeth, recognized Thea and hospitably offering her 30% discount to help her to celebrate the happy occasion._

 _Thea chatted with the old lady and gave her updates on her and Oliver's life and Felicity wondered what exactly 'the happy occasion' Ms. Moloney was referring to. Perhaps for Thea's move to her flat? Or for her hooking up with Roy? Or…_ —

" _Enjoy your shopping, Dear. Let me know if you need any assistance," and with that, Ms. Moloney absconded from view._

" _No women in their right mind would ever pass on a discount. Right?" Thea tugged Felicity's arms towards the shoe rack, and she followed her dutifully. "Because we bought it on sale we're actually making money."_

" _That reminds me when I bought a set of sensuous looking red lace teddies from Victoria's Secret just because it was on clearance," Felicity narrated. "And then I came home, unwrapping it and realized I don't have any occasion to wear it. I mean_ — _I have no boyfriend, or seeing anyone that potentially could appreciate it...and no—I am not interested to wear it to sleep because my sushi pajama was ten times comfier."_

" _When was this?"_

" _I think it was a week after Oliver saved me from his pyscho ex-girlfriend," Felicity said, refering to Helena. "I don't doubt your brother's taste of women but that one is definetely a mistake."_

 _There was a spark of amusement on Thea's face that Felicity didn't quite understand why._

" _I'm sure Digg and Lyla won't say no if we bought them something else besides the generic Christening outfit," Thea added while she tossed a chic looking pair of leather boots into the shopping cart. "I know baby Sara can't even crawl yet but every girl will need shoes. It what defines happiness. Dare I say the right pair of shoes can change your life."_

" _Can it?"_

 _Thea smiled. "Ask Cinderella," and she tossed another pair of shoes, mumbling, "I am glad Digg and Lyla had a girl, I can do with an extra pair of legs."_

" _I bet she had more stuff than Digg and Lyla combined," Felicity mused. She remembered buying at least seven newborn outfit, two booties, and a diaper bag before Sara Diggle was even born—thanks to the generous bonus that Oliver had contributed to her disposable income for posing as his EA. "I heard Laurel and Sara bought her a tricycle," she appended, recalling the day she helped Lyla to store it in the garage until Sara was old enough to utilize it._

" _No way!" Thea laughed as they went out to the shop and walked into the parking lot. "I'll keep that in mind. I might want to buy her a car if we managed to get some part of the company back."_

 _They were crossing the road and Felicity was in the middle of regaling Thea with a particularly self-deprecating tale when she was learning to spell and one Christmas their neighbor got a Christmas card signed by 'Satan'..._

— _when a camera flash blitzed on them._

"No, no, no," Felicity said, and she skimmed through the news furiously. That day, she had thought the paparazzi were after Thea, who had tons more gossip-worthy material than she ever was. "This is not happening, this is—oh, frack. Why?" Her curse was definitely not what most societies would consider ladylike, but at the moment she didn't care about tarnishing her image.

True enough, it was real, she didn't imagine it. The news even documented a pictorial evidence of her and Thea, coming out of the said baby boutique, carrying not one… but two fancy pinks ribboned paper bag with her other hand resting on a slight bulge under the fold of her top on the plain sight. The caption read:

"The soon-mother-to-be of the Queen's heiress was enjoying a weekend shopping with the future-sister-in-law, Thea Queen. Ms. Smoak looked radiant in her yellow peplum top and black capri pants that discreetly exposed her growing bundle of joy."

"Wow. They even decided what you guys are having," said Thea after her laughter subsided. "The reporters were seriously having a field day. And I'm sure in a couple of hours, showers of congratulation will be heading your way."

They definitely would… but Ironically, there was no baby.

Felicity looked down and the sight of her slightly ample tummy greeted her.

And what had made the fact harsher to swallow was that she and Oliver had never slept together, which concluded that the damage done to her swollen belly wasn't down to sex… but the extortionate amount of brownies she'd been ravishing since Oliver arrived in her house.

That recipe book was the culprit! (and Felicity knew she always had a bad luck with any type of culinary-related endeavor).

It was either a catalyst of a tragic ending...or a cause of a really wonderful beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

All typos and grammatical error are mine. A note from me, this chapter contain something that may not be pleasing to everyone. I hope you'll give this story a chance and trust where I'm taking it. Felicity and Oliver's decision will be included in the next chapter.

Kudos/Favourite are cherished, and Reviews are appreciated!

* * *

Sometimes Oliver's name was a hindrance more than help; As the news traveled, there was no doubt a few paparazzi were trying their luck, lingering outside her apartment car park. Felicity had no idea what to do. She wasn't acclimated to the life under constant public scrutiny. Should she just pretend members of the press and other skeevy organizations were completely nonexistent?

Oliver was as usual remained composed and reticent. He was a master at compartmentalizing his emotion. Until three loud rap was heard at the door seemed to derail his focus, and he stiffened.

"Who is that?" Involuntarily, the ominous, distorted tone of the Arrow answered on the fourth knock on the door. His hand firmly rested on the door handle.

"Hey, man. It's just me," John Diggle's familiar deep voice echoed from the doorway.

Oliver relaxes his stance, letting his firm grip on the doorknob loosened. Diggle appeared at her apartment door with the biggest grin ever. "How's the baby?" and Oliver breathed out through his nose. "I'm sure you've heard."

"Yeah, Lyla nearly threw me out of the bed when I refused to open my eyes this morning because she was too damn excited," he smirked knowingly. "Too bad her excitement was short-lived after I pointed out that Felicity and Thea were shopping for _our_ baby… Except there is some other news that I'm not aware of." He glanced towards Felicity and his grin swell. "And how's the mother-to-be?"

"An escape to Vegas right now would be great," Felicity replied dryly.

"I believe your new celebrity status means you will have to go out of this establishment escorted."

Oliver breathed exasperatedly. "Is that why you are here?"

"Both your office and the mansion have quite a few people watching, waiting for the first picture of the expectant parent," Diggle said. "There are even some in front of Verdant. But, I only notice only a few reporters flocking outside. Finding Felicity's address obviously isn't as easy as yours, Oliver. But this may change. I suggest you both not to go unchaperoned at all time."

Felicity felt her stomach tilt. Even when she had lived in a world with Mirakuru powered soldier, an elite mercenary club called the League of Assassin, supernatural meta-human, and numerous other freaky should-only-be-on-TV-and-not-in-real-life stuff, no news had ever come as paralyzing as the news of this 'fatherless' conception (she wanted to say 'miraculous' but getting an extra abdominal fat layer was hardly a rocket science let alone a miracle). Soon she was going to need a paper bag. But that would be a bad idea. She didn't need more hint to encourage already contorted public opinion about her 'delicate condition'.

"Perhaps we should hide at less prominent address," Oliver said thoughtfully.

"You are most welcome to bunk at my house until the situation improves," Digg offered.

Oliver nodded silently before leaving to get some of their stuff and Digg parked himself in front of Felicity, who was unusually quiet.

"For a second I wished the news was real and Sara will soon have a playmate," Digg told her, smiling. "And we can set up a pack-and-play in the Foundry, so our kids could watch us in action. And your kid can appreciate his or her father's impeccable abs on that salmon ladder."

Felicity groaned into her palm. "I have never dreamed of being the copycat of Mary's in the nativity scene, but let me tell you there won't be any baby Jesus."

Diggle chuckled when he climbed behind the kitchen counter and nonchalantly took the last piece of brownies. Of course, he found all of it funny.

"You're having a little too much fun with this," Felicity said. "It could have just as easily been Lyla on the front page of TMZ. Though I think the reporter would have a severe case of concussion by now for calling her pregnant when she isn't."

"She would just laugh it off," Diggle said. "Also, as amazing as she is, I doubt she is a TMZ material."

"I'm going to find out who had done this! I'll check the security cam around the vicinity of the shop," Felicity told him, giving him a dark look. "And I am going to remotely delete that stupid pictures, or perhaps overload their news server. I'll make sure all the data in his company database are wiped out in exchange of sound of squirrel flatulence and..―" she trailed off, realizing that she was having a panic attack and already rambling, her hands gesturing wildly in front of her as she spoke. Feeling overwhelmed suddenly, the true reality of her situation finally hitting her, she dropped her head down into her open palms, cradling her head as if the thoughts inside them were too heavy for her.

"Oh, gods…." She closed her eyes and tried to calm down, taking a few deep breaths, suddenly feeling a steady, warm hand was cradling her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Oliver materialized next to her with a sympathetic smile that actually reached his eyes. It did miraculous curing of the worms that were currently feeding on her stomach lining.

"I'm sure there is a way to fix it before this drags that far," Oliver reassured. "And we'll bring whoever did this to justice." She could tell he was trying to sound neutral, but there was a dangerous undertone that obviously wasn't directed at her.

She took a deep breath, lowered her hands to her lap and made an attempt to reorganize her thoughts before speaking again. "So, what do we do now?"

Their exchange was interrupted by the jangling of Oliver's phone on the desk.

A quick glance at the contact picture on the screen revealed it was David Morrison, his family lawyer cum head of Queen's Public Relation. Oliver groaned. "I have to take this."

He took a deep breath to compose himself before pressing the screen to accept the call. "Yes David?" he greeted.

" , good morning!" A falsely chirpy tone replied on the other side. "I believe you knew the reason for my early call?"

"I believe I do," Oliver sighed.

"I am at the Queen's mansion and wondering if you could…―"

"We'll meet you there," Oliver said and then hung up before he could say anything else.

* * *

The ride to the mansion was filled with silence, and by the time they reached the front gate, the street outside the estate was already lined with cars. Thankfully, the pouring rain had abated some of the press who at first intended to stalk them or waited for their appearance from outside the gate.

And to make the matter worse, David Morrison, Oliver's new head of PR and family lawyer was a sinister looking man that held close semblance to Slade Wilson.

It brought some terrible deja-vu when the man stood up and introduced himself. "Very pleased to meet you, . I've heard that you are one _treasured_ employee of this company," David said with his peculiar British accent. There was a mocking edge in his tone.

David held out his hand, and Felicity looked suspiciously at it like she feared it might catch flame, but she eventually shook it.

"Nice to meet you too, ," Felicity replied, trying to hide the insincerity dripped from her voice.

"Please, call me David," he smiled as he released Felicity's hand. "My pleasure to finally put a face to the name."

David invited them to sit down before showing them another version of similar news retold by another online tabloid and one line on the paragraphs stood out.

It's written:

" _One more time, after the shocking news of him surviving the Gambit's accident that took the life of his own father, ex-billionaire Oliver Queen surprised all of us again by fathering an illegitimate child with his own EA, MIT graduate Felicity Smoak, a woman who was known for her intellect and not for her…_ _―_ _"_

Oliver turned away from the screen, letting his annoyance at the stupid news roll over him so that it showed in his body language.

"As we have seen, a person couldn't live in Starling City without seeing the scruffed jaw of Oliver Queen on the cover of local magazines and in newspapers on a regular basis," David told him. "There have been four other similar stories published by different newspapers and tabloids in the last one hour alone."

Oliver frowned. Sure he had dealt with a lot more salacious gossip before, mostly dealing with too much alcohol and a bunch of unknown, promiscuous girls.

Even back in the day when he was openly dating Laurel, local magazines and websites regularly ran speculative articles about his love life…. or perhaps the love affair of Starling city's resident playboy.

While it was true that Felicity wasn't like any of his past dalliances and he wasn't the same shallow man he once was, Felicity was a friend first before anything else… and he didn't want this fact to change, and for things go awkwardly between them just because of stupid gossip.

"Can I confirm the truth of the matter?" David's voice derailed Oliver from his stupor. "Because outside, there is a large group of reporter waiting. And it's better for us to clarify the news directly than letting editor and column writer weaved a wild story based on a single photograph."

"The truth is there is no baby," Oliver answered sharply. "It is just a big misunderstanding. Now, I have other important matter to attend and I am trusting this case fully under your _capable_ hands."

Oliver stood up, bobbing his head towards Felicity direction to indicate their business had been concluded.

"Wait, …What if you could have the mansion, all Queen's asset and the company back?"

* * *

Felicity could imagine the avalanche of questions and demands being spewed by the hungry press who was without a doubt, going to be curious when exactly the whole 'sleeping-with-your-EA' thing had been stemmed. She quietly sipped her stale coffee while listening to David trying to placating the cranky Oliver who right now looked like ready to pierce an arrow through his someone's head.

"Look, you both can make use of the situation," David suggested smoothly. "Your mysterious nightly activity with and a few recent sighting that you emerged from her apartment had captured public interest….and this false pregnancy just amplified the effect even more to _your_ benefit."

"Our benefit? Please tell me you are joking, David," Oliver said calmly, but there was a definite threatening undertone in his voice.

"Do I look like I am joking ?"

 _Maybe?_ Because at the moment her life sounded more like a terrible plot twist from a sappy sitcom than an actual real-life story.

"So what are you suggesting?" Felicity tried to sound normal and unaffected even when her nail digging into her chair that perhaps it would leave a permanent mark on the fabric.

"Like pretending that you two are in a relationship and planning to keep the baby," David said like he had thought about it all along.

Oliver turned nearly pound the table and chopped the thing in two, his face a hardened mask of anger and disbelief.

Recognizing Oliver's rising temper, Felicity attempted to defuse the situation by volunteering, "Wait, let me straighten this up. You are perfectly aware that _our_ ," she gestured between herself and Oliver. "―relationship so far is platonic despite so many rumor. I know Oliver spent a lot of night with me, even move in with me, but let me clarify that the only things he did that may have caused my abdomen swell had nothing to do with the vital organ underneath his pants." That much was true.

His entire sentence must have registered in her brain then because she blinked and asked, "Oh frack, you want both of us to pretend this entire pregnancy thing is true?"

For one, drawn-out moment, one could hear a pin drop in that interview room. At that moment, Felicity wondered if she'd heard Oliver correctly. Surely, he hadn't just suggested that she became Oliver's fake girlfriend as well?

"At what cost, David? You are talking about not just me, but also Felicity's name and future at stake on this."

Felicity wanted to add her outrage to what Oliver was saying, but she was finding her throat was suddenly bone dry. She could only stare from Oliver to David and back again as the fury built within her like a snowball gathering size rolling down a mountain.

David cleared his throat. "Before you decide to…"

― _kill you_...Felicity finished the thought in her head, glancing towards Oliver who gritted his teeth. The other option was to slap Mr. David-Savage-Morrison in the face with it, and she was pretty sure it wouldn't have helped them calm the storm of gossip surrounding her non-existent pregnancy.

"...―dismiss my proposal," David said again, still looking despicably relaxed like he was discussing the weather. A decade dealing with the Queens must have equipped him with nerves of steel. "Let me show you some… _figures_. And then you―," he flashed a smug glance towards Felicity. "―can go ahead and kill me."

"You realize you said that out loud, right?" Oliver asked her, lowering his voice. And if David had learned anything in the few minutes since the interview started, it was that she had a penchant for letting errant thoughts escape the confines of her brain.

She should've felt guilty, but instead she only tilted her head looked at David faux-apologetically. "Sorry. Too early for my filter to be working at maximum capacity. And considering my filter is already faulty to begin with, things were bound to slip."

The man must've been paid a ton of money by the Queen's family to flaunt his smile because if he felt offended, he didn't show it. Instead, grinning brightly, David pulled out some papers containing Felicity's appraisal comment from Walter Steele and list of patented technologies she had filed during her days in QC.

"As you can see, has proven to be a great asset to this company. You got incredibly lucky to hire her," David told Oliver, before flashing a white smiled at her. "And today you can thank her again because the news had caused your company's shares tripled….and the bank had agreed to release some of the Queen's estate and financial resource as they don't see such guarantee is needed."

For a brief moment, Oliver seemed to experience a flash of positive astonishment at his lawyer's statement. However, it doesn't take long for his bitterness to return full force when he broached the main aim of their conspiracy.

"Playing a little drama is a small cost to pay considering the result you may gain, ."

"Yeah, I've had my death faked for five years, why not a fake child to add to that?!" Oliver deadpanned.

Felicity grabbed Oliver's hand under the table, noting the heightened level of testosterone was suddenly filling the air as both males were busy having a staring contest.

David didn't seem to regard Oliver's angry rhetoric, instead, interlacing his fingers and said. "We can easily kill the rumor by fabricating a miscarriage , and then you and can return to your usual life and… _relationship_. Whatever you both find suitable. But meanwhile...we need to sell our cover a little bit and keep the rest of the world in the dark until the right moment arrives."

It took Felicity a fraction of a minute to realize what the statement may entail. "You mean I can't even tell my mom?"

"No, Ms. Smoak. You must understand the more people know the truth of the situation, the greater the risk of it jeopardizing our plan," David replied her sagely. "And the media will create another furore if they found out there had never been any baby, and everything was staged for the benefit of QC."

"For the record, I am not the best at keeping secret," Felicity told him, imagining her life with hundreds of eyes kept following her everywhere she went.

"Please remember this is not a permanent arrangement, , a few months top," David said again in reassurance. "And if this would be a consolation to you, I've thought about an exit plan. A _graceful_ exit plan," David said proudly as he drew Felicity's attention to the charts and figures on the table.

"In a couple of weeks time, you and will leave for two months sabbatical with the excuse that your pregnancy requires some special medical attention overseas due to unforeseen circumstances. That is when we seize back the control over the Queen's asset and then announce the _unfortunate_ miscarriage." He paused to read Felicity's reaction before continuing. "And this hopefully will keep the public sympathy after the loss and the press will leave you alone during the period of…" David made quotation marks in the air. "...bereavement."

Felicity was holding onto her calm better than Oliver was… but just barely.

"And can you guarantee the result?" Oliver, who had been quiet all along finally interjected, holding up his hand and fixed David-flipping-Morrisson with a hard look. "To be honest, I don't really like the sound of this." Neither did she, especially the miscarriage bit.

"I can't promise you anything, , but I don't think you both don't have much choice," David grinned smugly as he gathered all his papers and printouts. "The press already outside. You two have to give them _some_ answers, one way or the other."

He calmly closed his tablet and placing it back into his bag, turning to Oliver. "You can't control what people think, . You can only control what you do."

Felicity felt Oliver suddenly tightened his grip on her hand because he knew David was right.

"And to avoid the press jumping into wild conclusion, the PR will be introducing you as Oliver's partner. Therefore, I wanted to warn you about the scrutiny that might bring," David turned to address her.

Felicity swallowed hard. She had never been in front of the tabloids before, let alone having the image of her 'pregnant' self being splashed around on various media and became the talk of the society. But that was a small inconvenience compared to lying to her mom. But what other choices she had? Her mom wasn't the greatest at keeping secret, that's how she inherited her no-brain-to-mouth filter after all. On the other hand, she couldn't let Oliver and Thea became bankrupt when she could easily help them. As David said, it was only for a couple of months, right?

David still didn't look overly concerned about his client's reaction. In fact, if anything, he looked slightly amused. "On the bright side, there is no prenup or inheritance to be settled at the end of this mission, which means I'll be out of your hair. So…" David pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal the most ostentatious engagement ring Felicity had ever seen.

" , why don't you do the honor of proposing to be your fake bride?"


	3. Chapter 3

At the Queen's mansion, Felicity and Oliver discussed the merit of their plan and decided what to do next.

* * *

"Sounded like a fairy tale comes true," Felicity declared sarcastically. "My mother will swoon at the news."

"Surely this is unnecessary," Oliver ignored the ring which David had placed on the table, right in front of Felicity and gave his lawyer a hard look.

"Mr. Queen, your family has always been known as ones that respected and believed firmly in the value of marriage, especially when a child is involved."

"You are completely missing the point," Oliver replied sharply. "If this is a real situation, there is no question that I…-"

Somehow, Felicity's brain thought she heard the word "I will marry her". But she was obviously just hallucinating. There was no way a charming Queen would fall for a girl with chronic verbal gaffes condition.

"That I will take full responsibility for the situation. But this is _not_!"

Oliver's furious quip didn't seem to have either riled or affected David in any way.

Before Oliver's outburst escalated, one burly man with security outfit came in, interrupting their conversation and whispered to David's ears of what Felicity concluded must've been the situation of the restless press outside.

"Make sure they all stay peaceful and orderly," he instructed and smiled like a villain who was secretly scheming to take over the world. The only thing missing was the moustache twirling. "Mr. Queen will make the announcement himself later on, and Ms. Smoak will be there to support him," David told the bodyguard who dutifully nodded and excused himself.

"The decision is yours," David told them, leaving the box of the said ring on the table.

"Felicity," Oliver said. "Can we talk? Alone?" She looked straight at him and instantly recognised the guarded expression that fell over his face, the one that told her he was either going to explode or plant an arrow on someone's head.

"I'll leave you to it," David rose to his feet, buttoning their suit jackets as he did so.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, pausing in the doorway. "I want to urge you to at least consider this for the betterment of the company," he told Oliver. "If not for you, do it for your sister."

* * *

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose to abate the growing desire to plant his fist on David's face as the man smiled suavely while buttoning his coat. Alas, it was a futile attempt. He felt the rising heat in his chest urged him to command his hands to project his irritation. Thankfully, Felicity's warm hand that (perhaps accidentally, but he would like to think otherwise) rubbed the knuckles of his hand seemed to have that strange calming effect on his overloaded system. And he released one long, loud breath, silently thanking her for the intervention.

"Felicity, this is insane," he told her once David had disappeared from view. Before the island, he wouldn't have thought twice about the consequences. Now, his life was nothing but consequences.

"I know," she sighed. "I hope you didn't pay Mr. Morrison just yet because if you do, it's a complete waste of money."

"I pay him by commissions, which is exactly why he was so insistent for us to jack up QC shares," he shook his head. "This whole monetary incentive has made him considering doing crazy stuff."

"But Oliver, there is some truth in what he said. This is your chance to get your company back. Your future back. Rumour will die off in its time, but this golden opportunity may never come again," Felicity said, voicing her thoughts out loud.

He couldn't hide the indredulity in his voice, "You agree with him?"

"He showed us the facts and figures, Oliver. I may not agree entirely with his way, but he made a good point."

There was silence for a moment, and Oliver recognised something he'd never felt for a long time: uncertainty.

"In case you are doubting my acting skill, let me remind you that we've fooled people by my cover as your fake EA for nearly a year," she added, and now they were forced to play couple? It actually sounded as cliche as a rom-com movie plot, except that it wasn't.

"I have never considered QC to be my future," he replied quickly. "I'm more concern about you, and how's your mom will react to the news."

"My mom will be thrilled to an unbearable degree," Felicity says, dropping her head to her hands. "Which was bad, because she would be spectacularly disappointed afterwards." She paused.

"Now...how about you?" she seemed to push the thoughts of her mom to another side.

 _Me?_ He tilted his head as a sign that he needed further clarification.

"My only concern is….Will this bring even more stress onto your already strained love life?" she expressed, fiddling her finger tentatively.

"My love life?" He had every right to be confused. This was the first time someone had expressed her concern about Oliver Queen's love life. If his mother were still here, she would say the only concern she had that he ended up in polygamous relationship.

"Yeah," Felicity bit her lips. "I mean… Don't you worry about what Laurel may think?"

"I'm surprised you didn't say Sara," he mused. It was logical since she was his last girlfriend.

"Well," she pondered a bit. "I guess because I know you two end things in a good term. Not that I spy on you two in the Foundry because that would be creepy. Although, I did a little snoop around trying to figure out how could Sara be hot, clever and a badass all at once. But now, since I have had _the_ scar," she patted the spot on her shoulder where she had taken a bullet. "I feel less jealous of…"

"Felicity," he cut her in. Yes, letting go of Sara had been hard, but it had been right. He had no word of regret for it. Placing his palm on her cheek, he spoke to her earnestly. "You will always be my girl, Felicity. Just like you've always been." Somehow, even his voice came out more husky than he intended it to be.

He saw her swallowed thickly, shifting in her seat and blushed in the most adorable way. Her expressive blue eyes looked into his, as though trying to decipher the meaning behind his words.

Withdrawing his hand, he pressed his lips and tried to bite an amused smile. Felicity had never failed to bring sunshine even in one of the gloomiest day like today.

"But Laurel… she is different," she told him again, fixing her glasses out of nervous habit. "She is beautiful...No, I mean _all_ girls you've dated are...uh...supermodel calibre. Even Helena, although I don't understand why you ever dated someone like her. Except for the obvious 'Bad girls in tight black clothes are hot' reasons. Wait? Is that the reason?" she blinked and muttered a litany of sentences until she registered a wide, teasing grin. "Oliver! You are not listening!" she accused, crossing her arms and pursed her lips when he seemed to be entranced with her animated expression than her words.

"I am!" he couldn't restrain a few chuckle escaping. If that was her attempt to look intimidating, she had failed terribly. "Ok, so what are you saying about Laurel?"

"Oh yes, Laurel….She was the first girl you really fell in love with. She was a constant element in your life for a very long time. And although you both... no longer together, I still can sense something in the way she looks at you."

"It's not my fault to be born attractive," he shrugged.

"I've noticed," she murmured before she could catch herself. "I said _not_ noticed, right?"

His smile returned in full force noticing the colour that was high on her cheeks.

Felicity rolled her eyes dramatically and smacked him lightly on his biceps. "Oliver, I'm serious! Don't you feel she would be slightly betrayed that you have been keeping this kind of secret from her? I mean you... dating your EA?!" And perhaps having sex under the table.

 _Would she?_ He briefly contemplated. But the twisting of his heart had answered his question. Yes, he had betrayed her trust when he secretly took Sara with him to board the Gambit… and then countless other time after.

"I mean, not that I dislike the notion of you being my boyfriend," she said and swallowed thickly." _Fake_ boyfriend," she amended. "But, I don't want this pretend relationship ruins the chance of you getting back together with her. She deserves to know the truth."

"Hmm…." he hummed thoughtfully. Felicity wasn't wrong that Laurel had seen plenty of him, and perhaps was the only girl who was kind (or naive?) enough to look past his dalliances. Reconciling with Laurel had once been a focus of his attention when he'd first gotten stranded on the island, but it had become something far less likely over the years he'd been away.

But deep down, he knew the problem wasn't Laurel. It was him.

He had tried his hand at relationships, both before and after the island, and they hadn't turned out well. Pre-island, he was a terrible boyfriend, too selfish to think of others and their needs. Post-island, he was too jaded, had too many secrets, and lived a life too dangerous for many people. Even with the knowledge of Tommy's crush on Laurel, he had foolishly slept with her...breaking his best friend's heart... right before his death. And Oliver couldn't even forgive himself for it just yet.

And while telling Laurel the truth may be the right thing to do, he couldn't say the prospect of rekindling their relationship was something he wished to do.

"We had our chance," he explained, hoping Felicity would drop the subject. "We've ended things because we weren't right for each other. We've moved on," he stated simply.

She gave him an imperceptible nod as an acknowledgement, even when the crinkling between her brows suggested more questions hung on her lips.

"Anyway, being single has its own perks," he reaffirmed. After so many failed relationship, he began to accept that his life would be a lonely one.

Well, except he had Felicity (and Digg, but Digg had his family).

The thing about Felicity was that she was always there. She could be relied on, trusted, turned to, and she would always do her best to come through. She had seen him with all of his broken glory and put up with him when he made a stupid decision just because he was angry and irrational. She was the best of friend he could ever ask for. And he had enough of her putting herself on the line saving him.

"My point is...I don't want you to do _this_ at my expense," he voiced out his mind. "You don't know how life under as the public domain feels like, Felicity."

Growing up in the limelight and constant public scrutiny, reading his name involved with all kind of scandal was his daily bread. Once, he was caught snogging with Laurel in his father's car, and the wave of gossip was barrelling the internet like a tsunami. He had chosen to ignore them and let his PR took care of it. And for the record, even the most audacious rumours back then would eventually die on its accord after a couple of weeks.

But it was a different case with Felicity. When he 'promoted' her from the IT department to his personal EA, he'd heard about all of the rumours that circulate through the office, and it never passed his notice the way the corners of her mouth dipped whenever she heard about them. This was really the last thing he wanted, even when he hadn't had any idea about what the future may hold, let alone trying to control it. He'd rather deal with Queen Consolidated having a total meltdown than to see Felicity fret in distress as it inevitably would be if she were publicly connected to him.

For a split moment, he was surprised by his own readiness to sacrifice everything for a woman other than Thea.

But how couldn't he?

He remembered one day he found her with red, bloodshot eyes in the empty meeting room, pounding her fingers on the keys on her laptop with much vigour than necessary. The sadness on her face had caught him off guard.

"You don't remember that day when I saw you in the meeting room?" he reminded her. "You told me you weren't upset of the gossip…. but your smudged mascara clearly told me otherwise."

Back then….Even with no evidence of tears in plain sight, Oliver knew she'd been crying, so he reached out and put his arms around her anxious shoulder. He wasn't the greatest with interaction or understanding human emotions, but it seemed like she could really use a hug.

 _Thank you. I needed that._ He recalled her reply.

"That's a long time ago, Oliver. I've learned a thing or two now," she said stubbornly as if the incident bore no traces whatsoever in memory.

"But I can't let you be involved, Felicity. Not this way. This is not your fight. It's mine!" Even with the deliberate sharpness of his voice, her determination seemed too hard to tamper.

"I know you're going to say that," she replied quietly but firmly. "However, if you think I am ready to do _this_ to save you and your inheritance, you are only half right. Think about how many people we can save if you can prevent QC from organisational restructuring, think about their family…"

He hadn't considered that far yet.

"And you don't want to lose this house Oliver," she gestured towards things around them. The four wall around them was dressed with a few painting - his mother's private collection that Oliver was sure way older than he was. He remembered the sofa where they sat on was bought after two-month-old Thea profusely vomited on its predecessor. And he remembered the oak bureau on the corner of the room where he used to sneakily picked his father's office supplies to teach Thea how to do origami.

"The memory of your years were practically written all over it, this is the last thing you have to remind you of your parents and your childhood," she spoke up zealously. "Trust me, Oliver. It'll be worth it."

Not knowing how to answer her, he could only sigh. "I know, but… I can't let you do it for me."

"Then do it for Thea, Diggle…." And she suddenly reached his hand, wrapping her fingers that looked far too small compared to his. "And do it for me..."

 _And do it for me..._

The last few words echoed in Oliver's head and his mind unwittingly drifted in nostalgia.

Nearly two years ago after Tommy's devastating death, unable to bear the thought that his best friend died thinking that he was a murderer, he had hung his bow together with his crusade and fled to hide in Lian Yu.

And while he was in denial and fought to escape from the bitter reality, Felicity (and Diggle) came to get him back, making a thousand miles journey in that small plane across the South China Sea. Not only that, although she had screamed her way down, she had endured the free fall from their little aeroplane (at the expense of Digg's eardrums). Yes, he had learned that Felicity had an acute fear of height, and...for a girl who considered rock climbing a death sentence, she was incredibly brave. So, despite how terrified she was, (Diggle filled him in on how she shut her eyes and nearly crushed his bones by squeezing his hand the entire journey), she did it anyway…

For him.

And when he told her that he couldn't be a vigilante without killing, Felicity went and extra miles and made a custom design a bow for him. He still remembered the warm sensation that bloomed in his chest as he lifted the bow for the first time, the bow that was made with tears, thoughts and care. He could never ask for anything better.

It was _perfect_.

It's no wonder that Walter had always had the best things to say about Felicity. If her skill and professionalism couldn't earn his respect, then her thoughtfulness and readiness to help will.

"Okay. Fine," he finally agreed.

"Good," she seemed relieved before immediately tensing up again. "Wait. Do we need to fake the whole miscarriage thing? Although some part of me was offended by the whole world misconstrued my flabby tummy for pregnancy, but going to fake a miscarriage sounded way beyond ethical. I mean I know it's fake…"

"Felicity," he squeezed her hand. "I understand."

"You do?"

"I...I make a girl pregnant once," he admitted, his voice choked.

"Oh….right," she responded tentatively, perhaps not knowing what else to say.

With the frequency of him having sex and taking girls home, he was surprised that the swivel chair in his bedroom hadn't contracted with STD yet. But Felicity's blue eyes still widened as though she didn't see this coming.

"My mother paid the girl to keep her mouth shut, so I didn't know that I had…. _a son_ ," he elaborated. "When Samantha was absent from school for nearly two weeks, one of her friends told me she had a miscarriage. I mean… I knew the baby was mine because Samantha wasn't that kind of girl."

She watched him intently, her hand rested on his knee, brushing it gently as though trying to soothe him. Unlike interacting with the bunch of unknown faces outside where he could just wear his mask, Felicity definitely could see right through him, and he wondered whether what she could see in him now.

Was it guilt? Anger? Regret?

"I know I've made a mistake….and I know I was no way near ready to be a father - No, not at that age. Sure. But, I still hurt." There was such a fragility in his own voice, something she wasn't used to hearing coming from him but he found he couldn't quite control.

"I'm sorry, Oliver." There was a look of understanding and sympathy as he looked up and met her blue eyes. Felicity didn't say anything, but her eyes told him that she wished she had been there to help him went through the unhappy part of his life.

"That's okay." He couldn't resist tucking a few strand of her hair that went astray. And from such close proximity, he could smell the delicate scent of her shampoo. It smelled good. It smelled like happiness….like Felicity.

"Rest assured I won't have a miscarriage with this one," she patted her tummy and let him chuckled at her expense.

"So… we play pretend…" she waved his hand, alluding to the foot or so space left between them. "Whatever you name this, and then…?"

"We'll figure out the rest," he said, offering his hand to help her to stand up. "It was like a good friend once told me. There is always another way."

* * *

Press meeting was organised chaos - in Felicity's definition - thankfully Oliver was a master in handling reporter. Numerous of time she saw him facing them, calm, collected and kept his answer as precise, diplomatic and brief as possible. As she glanced through the lacy curtain that dressed the large bay window, she could just manage to catch a glimpse of the crowd that was already forming outside.

The daunting reality of facing a gauntlet of reporters that was close to pressing their nose on the wall around them began to sink, and she felt cold sweat started to form on the palm of her hand.

She's never dealt with anything like this before. It's foreign ground to her. But she's seen it dealt with, hasn't she? She'd watched Moira Queen walk into a courtroom in shackles and an orange jumpsuit looking every bit as regal as she hosted a dinner party at the manor. She'd seen Thea breeze through reporters and their invasive questions about drug use and car crashes like they weren't even there. And she had seen Oliver flashed his fake smile and posed for the camera smoothly like a pro. Apparently, he still remembered his old glamour routine from his pre-Lian Yu days….so all she had to do was to follow his lead and did as she was told.

She knew how to handle this...

"Do you know that I am not only afraid of heights, but also to wild mobbing crowd who look like they're going to rape you with their stare?" she told Oliver as she took the final sip from her flute. Oliver had called for champagne to help to calm her nerve for the impending doom that waited for them outside (although he also ordered a jug of orange juice as a decoy... he poured most of them on the plant pot on the corner of the room). Wiping her mouth somewhat ungracefully, she finished her second glass and let the alcohol slowly bubbled through her system.

Oliver drained the rest of his Champagne and signalled one of the house attendance for a refill. "Felicity, they are not going to rape you. I promise. Or..-"

"Or what?"

"Or you can grab my arm, just like you always do when you're afraid," he said. Even when he sounded serious, the restrained pull on his lips was a clear sign he was battling not to smile.

"No… I don't!" Did she? But whether she did or not, there went her dignity. It's no wonder that everyone thought that she was that kind of an EA. The kind that manipulated situations just so that she could grab her boss' arm. Ok, that called for another glass.

He chuckled, placing his empty flute on the table and offered his hand. "It's time. Are you ready?"

Oh, frack! The walls were metaphorically closing in, and the nerves were beginning to take root.

"What? No!" Her arm inadvertently clung tighter to the fabric of the sofa.

"Felicity, we can't hide inside forever."

"Yes! Yes, we can! There is enough room in this house so we can stay and hide here without seeing anyone for a week!"

"There is no food here. No running water. And for the record, next week the bank is going to cut the electricity. And no wi-fi either." She was devastated on the mention of the later.

"Ugh… but we can ask Digg to buy me Big Belly, right? And...I'm sure in this kind of cooler temperature it's ok not to take a shower for a week."

Oliver sighed resignedly. "Felicity, are you having a second thought about this? I mean, we can always tell them the truth."

His statement was enough to remind her why she had given thought to even pulling a crazy stunt like this.

"No," she shook her head resolutely, rewinding all her statement that she about to say. "Sorry. Ignore my reaction a few seconds ago. That was the alcohol talking."

Taking his hand, she marshalled all her courage and spoke up in more definite tone. "Let's do this."

A few black-suited man guided them through the corridor and down to the front porch of the house. And Felicity could hear the incoherent clamour building outside as they pushed the double wooden door open.

The flashes were blinding as people shouted their name. He guided her by placing his hand on the small of her back firmly, leading her forward. She could feel the eyes of those waiting in line trained on her and Oliver as he escorted her to the front.

"Mr. Queen," David stepped backwards and gave Oliver the space to address the press and whispered briefly to her as they went past.

"Just smile, Ms. Smoak," David told her. "Smile and be yourself. Show the world your winning personality that has bewitched your handsome prince away."

She entertained the thought of drying the man's bank account while hissing something incoherent under her breath. She was so busy plotting an evil scheme that she didn't see the tip of the curtain laid precariously on her path. The expensive silky jacquard combined with the slippiness of the marble floor made it impossible for her pointy heels to get a firm grip on anything. She skidded and managed to hit one large decorative potted plants with the back of her head in the process.

"Felicity!" She was an inch from hitting the floor when Oliver's unnatural reflexes caught her.

She shut her eyes, focusing the effort of containing the white pain that pounded on the back of her head. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?), she lost her balance in the process, but Oliver was quick to put a hand around her waist and steady her. A wave of electricity ran down her spine at his voice. Having his strong arm around her made her heart race faster than it did at the thought of stumbling in front of a group of camera-ready reporters. She learned that their closeness both comforted and frightened her.

"Felicity? Are you okay?" It took her a while to finally gather her bearings and dare to lift her head, trying not to crumble in his arms. One of the guys in the crowd had muttered "this is an excellent shot" statement loud enough for her to hear and snapped her from her daze.

Oh, she could just imagine another tabloid picture of her in the arm of her knight in the shining armour. She groaned and cursed her clumsiness. She really needed to stop making this appearing-in-the-headline thing a habit.

"Felicity?" Oliver repeated. She felt his hand tightened around her waist as his eyes searched for hers. Once her eyes met his, her tummy did a funny flip and her palm began perspiring. And it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. In fact, she liked it. She liked it a lot.

She closed her eyes again and swallowed thickly. "Hmm… mmm..." She nodded as she reminded herself that he was her boss, her friend and nothing more. And probably, could never be anything more.

"Nothing hurts?" he asked, seeking more affirmative answers. When she didn't immediately answer, his voice raised in a slight panic. "Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Or… double vision?"

She shook her head but failed to verbalise anything. Her nerve endings were still firing from the touch of his hands.

"Ok, I'm calling Digg. We can go to the hospital to get you checked."

It was a tempting offer to escape her current predicament, but she reminded herself that _this_ was a necessary ordeal in order to get QC back and to get Oliver and Thea's life back on track.

"Wait, No. Oliver. I'm fine," she indicated him to stop talking to Diggle on the phone, which he did.

"So, nothing hurts?"

"No. Only my pride," she mumbled, listening the ruckus began to stir the crowds as they discussed among themselves with a hushed voice.

After talking a few moment to adjust her glasses, her balance together with her dignity, she sat straight up, only to realised she was still grabbing Oliver's arm like it was her lifeline.

"Oh sorry!" she released her hand as though it was on fire. "I'm sorry if I grab you too hard... I mean your arm! Not anything else!" she blurted.

 _Nice going, Felicity._ She berated herself when a few bodyguard who stood an earshot from them cackled amusedly at her statement. David was right. This was no place for a girl suffering from a severe case of verbal diarrhoea like herself.

Rebounding her courage, she tried to stand unassisted, but it became immediately clear that she had sprained her right ankle, and wearing four-inch high stiletto didn't help the case either.

"Hey hey… easy now," he said, with his hand still protectively curled around her waist to steady her wobbling feet. Why no one reminded her that alcohol and high heels weren't a good combo?

Leaning closer so she could rest her weight on him, Oliver ignored the curious look that tracked their every movement completely. She swept a nervous glance around the sea of reporter that seemed to be enthusiastic about what other surprises they might encounter next. Perhaps waiting for another awkward stumble from her that would lead to something like an accidental kiss.

"Don't worry. We got this," he said softly, answering her apprehension. "And you may want to grab my arm," he said, offering his hand with a small smile that reached far into the depth of his blue eyes. "It's allowed."

For a second, she forgot that their exchanged was watched (perhaps taped, recorded, and broadcasted around the city) and let herself melt in his arm. Until one particularly bright flashbulb shot right in her direction. Having no choice and still clinging to his arm, she leaned back slightly to create a false illusion of personal space.

There was a buzz of chatter ignited by his action before the reporters verbalised their curiosity and barrelled Oliver with more questions.

"Mr. Queen, any comment on the news of the pregnancy?"

"Mr. Queen, any plan for the wedding?"

"Mr. Queen…-"

How Oliver always managed to construct a sentence that sounded tactful yet vague was a mystery to Felicity. She was so preoccupied with keeping track of what the lies that they had weaved along the way and maintaining somehow calm look (rather than openly showing her terrified expression) that she didn't notice an hour had gone by until she felt her ankles were begging for relief.

"I believe our time is up," Oliver said with an inconspicuous nod towards Digg. The man took the cue as a sign to prepare the exit plan.

"Wait," David halted him. "You haven't confirmed Ms. Smoak's pregnancy." True, all through the question, Oliver had been cleverly dancing around the rumour without clarifying any facts.

"David," he said firmly. "I already address to the press that while I am glad they're excited with the news, that the pregnancy isn't a public spectacle and I have every right to refuse to make any comment."

"But…Mr. Queen...-"

Oliver raised his hand to silence him. "I said...my answer to the press would suffice," he told his lawyer, donning a hard stare on his face. "I shall not add to that….or I have to dismiss you for acting against my best interest."

Ignoring David's devastated expression, Oliver slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her to his side and she noticed an army of photographers in front of them. All of them were snapping pictures so Felicity smiled as brightly as she could, leaning into Oliver. Several reporters shouted out questions. Felicity took her cue from Oliver, who just smiled for the cameras but didn't answer.

"Mr. Queen, can you stand closer to Ms. Smoak so we can have a better picture?"

He complied, turning on his charisma for the herd of reporters who went on camera clicking frenzy on both of them before he took her hand and smoothly disappeared behind the wooden door.

* * *

They left the mansion shortly after leaving Digg's address for temporary correspondence. During the ride, Oliver had tried to put on her favourite song on the player, but her anxious mood didn't lift. If anything, she seemed to get worse as the moment passed by.

"Are you okay?" he took the first initiative to ask. Felicity had been quiet for the entire fifteen minutes of their journey home. It's been an eventful day, after the whole pregnancy news, the meeting with David, the interrogation by the press….

"Seriously, I'm fine. Can we hit the bar? I am sure nothing that a glass of wine can't do," she told him.

"Don't you think it's a little too early for another bottle of alcohol? It's barely 2 o'clock and we already finished two," he pointed out. "Besides, you are _supposed_ to be pregnant."

"I still have the leftover of Bordeaux Oliver gave me at home," Digg addressed her from the driver seat, gazing on the mirror to see her reaction. "I'm sure you'll appreciate it's sedative property…which you'll need to help you dealing with Oliver tonight," Digg conceded while Felicity took a moment rehabilitating her shock. "Ups, sorry… I mean to help you dealing with your sprained ankle." By the glimpse of an amused grin on his lips and unapologetic tone of his voice, Diggle was obviously not sorry at all.

Oliver rolled his eyes while Felicity squirmed in her seat and had turned red from her ear to toe. "Don't tell me that you only have one room spare room in your house. I'm a little too big to share Sara's cot or to be her cuddling buddy," she muttered. It was obvious Digg was trying not to laugh.

"Don't worry. I've called Lyla, and she has everything under control," Digg announced at general direction.

"So," Oliver turned to her. "How about a cup of creamy frappuccino and waffle topped ice cream?"

His lips quirked up at the astonished look on Felicity's face. "I thought you have a strange aversion to sweet stuff? You have never touched the brownies you baked, which totally unfair."

"Not this time," he said. Even if he could die from sugar overdose, it would be worth it if it made her feel better. "I'll pay your dental bill with my insurance."

With his eyes serious on hers, he repeated. "So, Felicity. Would you like to go out with me?"

"Wait," she blinked and pushed her specs up her nose. "I don't want to read too much into this, but are you inviting me on a date?"

"Yes, an actual date. A _date_ date," he said with a smile as he mimicked her speech mannerism.

She didn't regard him with her usual sceptic-tilt-of-the-head that he had seen a couple of times when she caught him dropping some ridiculous lies - like the energy drink in a syringe. In fact, if anything else, she looked flustered.

"Usually I'm the one who speaks in sentence-fragment," she said, gulping.

"I know a place that does most heavenly frappuccino that you can't even stop at the first mug. And I knew the owner has a private room upstairs so we can avoid that unwanted attention."

"You make it sound like we are going to do something kinky," she caught herself. "Not that I am suggesting anything… it is merely a statement. But wait, uh, I don't mean to imply that you are unattractive, because despite your scar, uh, battle marks… I noticed that you have a very nice muscle," she blinked as though just sobered up from her daze. "I said I _did not_ notice…..right?"

He battled a smile but failed miserably. "Thanks for the compliment on my muscle," he uttered coyly. If there were any positive outcome of his purgatory days in Lian Yu, his nice muscles were certainly one of them.

"Your welcome," she said almost unheard.

Truthfully, he couldn't wait to have more opportunities to be with Felicity, even if it was just to grab a cup of coffee and listen to her to talk. He wanted her to see someone beyond the broody man she had known for the last few months (she's perhaps going to say _'years'_ ). He had wanted her to know, without a doubt, that he enjoyed spending time with her outside crime fighting, that he appreciated her friendship and valued her companionship.

He levelled his gaze at her. "So...?" he gave her cue that he was still waiting for her answer.

"I can do that," she granted with light eyes.

"Good," he grinned at her, their eyes locking up in an intense gaze. "It's a date."

* * *

All the grammatical mistakes are mine. And I'm sorry if this chapter doesn't live up to your hopes and expectations but I have a long-game plan here. Kudos and favourite are appreciated, reviews are adored. I love to hear what you guys think! Also feel free to come chat with me over on tumblr: 3431jessica.


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